In My Dreams I'll Always See You
by jackiesmittens
Summary: "Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan." His hands shake uncontrollably, his palms damp with sweat, no matter what, Castiel knew he must stay calm. He's trying to. So he remains seated, praying to God to keep Sam and Dean Winchester safe.


**Pearl Harbor**

Cotton yellow clouds float across the evening sky of golden orange, hovering above an endless stretch of growing crops. Below was a farmhouse, old and wooden, by the edge of the plantations. Sunshine beam endlessly onto the family farm and a large board of hand lettering that says 'Winchester Crop Dusting'. Beside the farmhouse was their garage, an old metal roof built on supporting pillars.

Inside the garage, under the high metal shelter, laid an unattended shell of an old plane propped on crates, scavenged of its engines, seats and wheels. Two young boys, aged nine and ten, crowded in its cockpit, handling their fake wooden controllers.

Young Dean Winchester makes a buzzing noise, resembling a plane in flight, while little Sammy voices over other noises of the imaginary aircraft.

"Bandits at 2 o' clock!" shouts Sam.

Dean cheers, "Power dive!"

"It's the Germans!"

"Kill them, Sammy!"

The two boys work the controllers as they shoot.

It has indeed been a while since the boys could have fun as if they were just two ordinary children, too long have they lived under the roof with their freedom held captive by their drunk of a father. Fun ceases to exist after their mother died in an unfortunate house fire, inevitably sending their father into a horrible depression. It is a time where their father goes off to work that the two little Winchesters could let go the burden on their shoulders and play freely like any other children would.

"Good shooting, Sammy!"

"You too, Dean!"

The elder Winchester points at a nearby scarecrow.

"Look, there's another one!"

Suddenly, large hands grasp roughly the back of Dean's overall, lifting him forcefully from the cockpit and onto the ground. John Winchester, the siblings' father, stood by the plane, drunk and furious.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" John tugged at Dean's shirt, jerking the frightened small boy, "Ellen said she'd pay you a few dimes to go help her out at the Roadhouse. But when I got there, you weren't there!"

When the back of John's hand connected with his cheekbones, Dean was thrown off his feet. On impact, he lands on his side, bruising his arm and leg. John curls his fingers around the collar of his son's shirt, lifting him off the ground, choking the helpless defenceless boy in the process.

"Stop hurting Dean!" Sam comes running from the plane and tosses one of the wooden controllers at him.

"Get into the goddamn house, Sam," John orders.

With fury boiling inside him, Sam Winchester charges at John and knocks him onto the grass.

No matter how Dean tried to stop them, no matter how much he shouts, no matter how hard he pulls, his father and brother never did let go. Sam clutches onto John's torso as he tries to knee his father while John grabs a fistful of his son's hair, tugging him off, causing Sam to bellow in pain.

"John!"

Dean looks up.

"Uncle Bobby!"

In a flash, Bobby interferes, pulling little Sammy. Then, he proceeds to helping their father onto their feet, hand resting on his chest as he tries to calm down the poor drunk.

"Jesus, John," Bobby sighs and turns to the children, "Go inside the house, boys."

When the two boys leave, the old man turns to his old friend. Bobby Singer knew the Winchesters. He knew John even before he got married to the beautiful late Mary Winchester. They were friends, and they looked out for each other. Now, it seems like Bobby was going to be in charge of keeping John in one piece… after Mary left with the flames.

John tries to push him away, freeing himself from Bobby's grip. When Bobby lets go, he stumbles back towards the house.

"You're a father, John." The Winchester ignores him and he takes another step towards the front door.

Bobby sighs, "Start acting like one."

* * *

**_Twelve years later…_**

American P-40 fighters blast through the air, their engines roar and the sound of their wings cutting through the wind fill the area. Eight of them were flying under the crystalline blue sky, and two of them were piloted by the two brothers who grew up in the Winchester farm.

While other pilots swap positions in formation, flying along in a tight orderly line, Sam and Dean were playing. With Sam gunning his engine to soar high above the others, Dean was doing the 'leapfrog', and the unstoppable brothers were scaring the spectators on the ground, what with Sam and Dean threatening to crash into the other American P-40's by being so close to them.

The training captain watches in fear, swiped with fury, as Dean narrowly misses the plane in front of him as he dives his plane out of formation. Bobby Singer, the captain shouts at his radio, "You idjits! Cut that out!"

"Aw," Dean chuckles as he flies pass Sam, just inches away from crashing into his right wing, "I'm just trying to give Sammy a little flight training."

"Don't call me that," Sam interrupts and he races Dean's plane around the military base.

Dean laughs and says, "Hey, remember that little stunt we talked about last night?"

Bobby tenses.

"What stunt?" the old man demands.

"Oh yeah," the younger Winchester recalls, "You wanna do it?"

Dean asks with a deeper, darker tone, "Do you fear death?"

"Bring it on, you jerk." Sam swerves lower to the ground and he faintly hears Dean calling him a bitch through the radio.

"What are they doing?" A young pilot, Ash stands beside the captain, watching Dean's plane diverting course and flies further and further away from Sam's in the other direction. Ash and the other pilots had already landed, leaving the Winchesters the only ones flying in the sky.

"I don't think I want to know," Bobby voices worriedly, watching as the two American P-40s suddenly turn on each other and were now approaching nose to nose from a far distance.

"Alright, Sammy, just like how we talked about," Dean shrugs his shoulders, "I'll go left and you go right."

"Right."

A moment later, Sam's voice suddenly announces from the radio, "Wait, is it your right or my right?"

"What do you mean your right or my right?"

The two planes were closing in, cutting through distance in blurring speed.

"Your right or my right?"

"Sam, what the hell are you-"

"Dean! Your right or my right? Which way do I go?"

The noses of their planes draw closer, moments away from crashing together.

"Dean!"

"Sam, stop screwing with me!"

"Your right or my right?"

Bobby stops breathing as both the planes were only a few meters away, flying at top speed.

"Right! Right!"

"Me right, you right?" Sam sucks at his lower lip nervously.

"Yes!" Dean shouts, clutching onto the handle.

The brothers shout as they both pull with full force at their controller, both planes swerving to their rights, missing only a few inches away from the other.

While the others cheer from the ground and Bobby can finally breathe again, Sam and Dean were screaming and cheering and laughing in their cockpits, feeling more proud of themselves than ever before.

_In Bobby's office…_

A fist bangs onto the table, the beer bottle rattles and Dean flinches.

"Little? LITTLE?"

"Come on, Bobby. It's just a stunt," Dean says casually and receives an elbow from his brother.

"I think 'little' does not give the same meaning of 'being suicidal' to me!" Bobby Singer walks over to the front of his desk, "Hell, I don't even know how you idjits come up with this shit. Next time you plan on giving me a heart attack, you might as well just let me know in advance so I can take the day off."

When Bobby faces the windows behind him, Dean snickers and peeks at his taller baby brother who rolls his eyes at him.

"If I hadn't promised your father to let you enrol here," Singer turns to the standing brothers, "to look after both of you when he can't, I would've just left your sorry asses back at the Roadhouse with Ellen and Jo."

"Bobby, you know we'll just come back one way or another," Dean flashes his smug smile.

"Yeah, I know," Bobby smiles a little, "Sometimes I just wish you two weren't Winchesters. Stubbornness, in your case, runs in the family."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances and Bobby sighs.

"Now get going, you idjits," their captain waves them away, "Don't you have places to go to? Nurses to meet?"

"Dean is meeting one," Sam smirks and earns a slap on the back.

Bobby nods to himself. "And I'm happy for that. Now, get out."

Music blast through the spaces in the bar, accompanying the dancers performing on stage. Customers everywhere, dressed in Hawaiian shirts and pants, swaying and dancing to the music on the dance floor. The pilots were drinking and enjoying their time under the lights, music and the sight of pretty ladies – most of them zeroing in at the men in uniforms.

Everyone was having a good time, what with Ash grooving to the music with a girl in her nurse uniform. Crowley, one of the pilots, was spotted striking up a conversation with a group of ladies at the corner of the bar. He had his right arm around Lucifer's shoulders, appearing to be calming down his very shy and nervous friend.

People used to call him Mark. No one knew who came up with an idea to nickname him after Lucifer. Anyway, Mark was good at flying, but when it comes to girls… He's hopeless.

When one of the girls laughs at something he said, the shy bachelor relaxes and laughs with her. Again, everyone was having a good time.

Everyone except Dean.

"Dude, what's gotten into you?" Sam pats on his shoulder.

"Sam," Dean pulls his attention from the ground to look at his brother, "I need to tell you something."

Dean pulls him outside and heads towards the side of the building, where they were alone and isolated from other customers. He tells Sam everything.

Through every word Sam listened, his eyes widened more and more with surprise. Finally, he shoves at Dean's shoulders.

"How could you do this?" he demands.

Dean pouts his lips as he rubs at the spot where he was shoved. "The Colonel helped me work it out."

"No, I am not talking about that," Sam speaks furiously, "I meant how could you do it without letting me come along with you?"

"I'm sorry Sammy, but they're only accepting the best pilots."

"Don't make this a joke, Dean. You're talking about war and I know what war does to people."

Dean shakes his head. "Sammy, you know how many times I've seen you return from school with a black eye or a busted nose, and couldn't do anything about it for you? And all those times you stepped up to Dad when I didn't dare to… and that one time you ended up being thrown out of the house and I didn't do anything about it because I couldn't?"

Sam tenses at the memory of John throwing him out of the house after he argued with him about letting Dean go to college for a few consecutive hours until John couldn't take it. Those times were hard, especially when he had to live in an abandoned warehouse until Ellen and Jo found him on their trip to the grocery store. After that, he had pretty much spent his days with them, until he enrolled in flying school with Dean.

"You've sacrificed too much, Sammy."

Before the younger Winchester could interrupt, Dean adds, "It's time I made mine."

Sam was left speechless. He looks at Dean, his emerald eyes pleading and begging.

"There you are!" Ash appears behind them and startles the two brothers. Ash sings his announcement out loud, "Dean, someone's here~~"

Sam watches as his brother's eyes light up. When Ash disappears around the corner, Dean heads towards the entrance, gesturing him to follow. But Sam shakes his head, "No, Dean. You go and have fun. I don't feel like partying anyway."

"Alright, suit yourself," Dean knows better than to force his brother, "You're not going to get laid like that, I'm just saying."

The younger Winchester watches his brother leave. Dean was always making choices on his own, thinking that it's the best that he could've done, and what Sam hates is that Dean thinks he can handle anything. When Dean's gone back into the bar, Sam takes a moment browsing through the thoughts in his mind before letting out a deep sigh at his brother's stupidity.

Dean re-enters the bar in search for his nurse. Tall, lean, dark hair, blue eyes… He continues searching, until he found him talking to the bartender.

Slowly, Dean stalks up to the male nurse, gesturing to the bartender to ignore him.

When he stands a few inches from the nurse, gently, he reaches his arms forward and wraps around the other man's waist, resting his chin on the shoulder, pressing his back against his chest and breaths in.

"Hey, Cas."

* * *

**_Alright, thank you so much for reading. *smilessss* I'm still working on chapter 2 and hopefully I'll get it done within these few days._**

**_I'd love to hear what you'd think, so gimme a review! It'll be much appreciated! =D_**


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